


Selective Amnesia, or Five Times Finn Said I Love You and One Time Rae Heard Him

by endemictoearth



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M, Five Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 15:59:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6812308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endemictoearth/pseuds/endemictoearth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I think the title says it all, but this does have a bit of S3 in it, which I have generally tried to avoid acknowledging.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Selective Amnesia, or Five Times Finn Said I Love You and One Time Rae Heard Him

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my lovelies! It’s been forever since I posted a fic, it seems. It also seems like I’ve been working on this fic forever. The idea came to me quite soon after the Voldemort of Series (we don’t mention it, bc it doesn’t exist). I agonized over it for months, and then wrote the last couple parts pretty quick (maybe too quick, who knows.) But it finally feels like it’s finished, so I’m posting it quick before I agonize some more.
> 
> The formatting gave me hell, too. I tried pasting from three different places, but it kept being a giant chunk of text with no separation. I think I managed to put in all the correct paragraph breaks, but if anything seems weird, let me know. 
> 
> Okay, so. One thing that drove me crazy about the Rae/Finn relationship in The Series That Shall Not Be Named was the utterly preposterous assertion that it took Finn a year and a half to say the words “I love you” -_- Just … no. So, this is me doing my first 5 Times/1 Time fic to try and figure out that puzzle. It may be the only fic I ever write that this explicitly alludes to … y’know … The Unfortunateness That Is S3.
> 
> There is a sprinkling of smut in here, fair warning. I don’t think it’s anything too salacious, but fair warning.
> 
> *** The whole story didn't upload at first, I've just fixed the problem. Sorry for any confusion!!!   
> *** Apparently I had NOT fixed the problem. Don't try to upload emoji characters as part of a story is the moral here, folks. :D

He’s no good with words.

 

*

 

**August 24, 1996**

 

His fingers trembled with fear. First, that she’d been hurt, or worse. Then, that she was angry with him. She’d avoided his gaze at the chippy. 

When she’d stood up, in front of everyone, leaning forward a little so everyone could hear, and said, “I used to hurt myself,” his heart went into free fall. He chewed on his nails as the room spun. He tried to focus and hear everything she had to say, but his brain was overloading. He watched as her mum led her into the kitchens, Rae tossing a backward glance at their table. He leaned heavy on Archie as he crawled out of the booth. He needed air. And chips.

He stumbled toward the chippy like he was drunk, though he’d only had a pint and plastic cup of cheap champagne. It was just his mind was so focused on replaying what she said, and what it all meant, that he didn’t have a lot of brainpower left over for fine motor control. His heart pounded louder than his boots on the pavement, and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. 

Time seemed to be surging and stopping, because he somehow never made it into the chippy, and she was somehow right here, somehow … she was looking for him. 

He stared at her, and she looked away. What did it mean? What did she want? All he knew, suddenly, what what she meant to him, and what he wanted. He stuttered over some words, not even sure what they were, and then lurched forward to catch her in his arms. 

Fingers still trembling, he didn’t trust himself with a lot of letters, and used as few as possible to make his case. He only used five, but he hoped she understood.

She pulled away, said she didn’t believe him, with a smile playing around her lips. He didn’t care, because at least now she knew.

 

* *

 

**December 26, 1996**

It’s only the third time they’ve done it. 

Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were both full of family and celebrations and mushy sprouts. Each of them sitting in the other’s front rooms, bewildered by the strange customs of different families. “We always open our presents in a circle.” “We always pull crackers in the garden.” “We always sing ‘Once in Royal David City’ before Christmas dinner.” “We always draw faces on our mince pies with cream.”

But with the obligations of the holiday over and done with, and everyone too full and distracted by new presents, they snuck away to Finn’s room on Boxing Day. His dad, along with his aunt and uncle, had gone to the pub with some old mates back in town to visit their families. 

They’d giggled, fumbling with the condom, so keyed up after ten days of only kissing and grasping and hands down each other’s fronts round the back of the pub or in Rae’s new room with the door ajar.

The first time in ten days had been quick; Finn sighed an apology right after. He could tell Rae hadn’t really come. But she smiled up at him, eyes full, and told him it was okay. She propped herself forward on both elbows to kiss him. A quick kiss that prompted a deeper one, then a yet deeper one, and next thing, he was easing her back to the bed as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close to her. His hands plied the soft flesh of her back, running down to cup her ample bottom. He was ready again before he knew it, and this time, he was careful, deliberate. He made sure she enjoyed herself, working her all over with his fingers until his wrists were tender, kissing her lips and throat and collarbones and breasts until his own lips were swollen.

 By doing so, when he allowed himself to push into her again, it was like the last time hadn’t counted, that’s how aware and attuned he was to the act of joining together with her. He was overwhelmed with sensation, more alive than he’d ever been.

Afterwards, they’d lain together, panting for a moment before they started shivering. Finn pulled the duvet over the two of them, and Rae snuggled against him. He smiled and kissed the top of her head. Her breathing gradually grew more even and when he knew she was asleep, he held his breath and looked out at the fading light of a cold December afternoon. Closing his eyes, he whispered, “I love you” and kept them closed until he finally fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

**February 15, 1997**

He’d stupidly tried something traditional with flowers yesterday, actual Valentine’s Day. After she’d marched them both over to Mrs. Dewhurst’s with his bouquet, he wasn’t sure he should keep the dinner reservation he’d made at that Italian place in town. But, surely, they could go to dinner, right? 

He’d checked last week with Linda and Karim, to make sure she didn’t have to babysit that night; actually, he found they were pretty eager to have Rae out for the evening. 

“Jasmine’s been sleepin’ through most nights already, so if …” Linda started, and Finn cut her off before he had an image he couldn’t rid himself of seared in his mind until his date with Rae.

Rae had worn that blue dress he liked, the one that was a little low-cut and a lot short, over leggings with a sparkly cardigan-type thing. Her hair was nice and wavy and soft-looking. When he picked her up, he’d reached out to touch the ends of it even before leaning in to kiss her cheek. 

Now she sat opposite him at the small table in the back of the restaurant, looking down at the menu and biting her lip. He watched her eyes flit from the entrees to the starters to the wine, to the candles to the rest of the room to the waiter and, finally, to him. 

In a loud whisper, she admonished him. “Finn, what are we doin’ here? Y’could’ve just brought a pizza over or summat; this is too fancy!” Her eyes were wide, cheeks flushed.

He bit his lip now, not sure whether to smile or frown. She was so beautiful, and certainly worth the fanciest meal he could give her, worth so much more than that. He was worried he’d never be able to give her enough. Instead, he just shook his head and looked down at the entrees again. “Don’t be daft; it’s just a restaurant.” He closed his menu with an air of decision and said, “I’m havin’ the tagliatelle. What d’ya fancy?”

She’d gotten a pizza after all, but eaten it with a knife and fork. “That’s how they eat pizza in Italy,” Finn explained, between mouthfuls.

“Oh, yeah? When were you in Italy?” She smirked, covering her mouth, even though she wasn’t chewing anymore.

“When I were six or seven?” He cleared his throat and dabbed his napkin at the corner of his mouth. “Me mum always wanted to go an’ I think …” He didn’t finish his thought, but her initial surprise had softened to a more sober expression to let him know she knew. She got it, even though he couldn’t find the words. His heart contracted, but all he could do was smile vaguely at her.

She returned the smile, and visibly brightened. “Really? I’ve always thought Italy would be dead nice. Venice and Florence and Rome; all that art and culture …” She gestured with her fork before taking another tiny bite.

“We just went to this seaside resort. I don’t think Dad understood about all that stuff. We did see the Leaning Tower of Pisa, though.” 

“Really? Still, that’s so cool. I’ve never been anywhere further than Butlins.” She looked down at her plate, like she was embarrassed by that fact.

Finn bit his lip, tried to think of what to say. He wished she’d been able to go places, but he also knew that, given the chance, they’d see the world together. Then, as his brain bounced back and forth between that trip years ago and future travels, he remembered two words in Italian. “Ti amo,” he whispered. His father had practiced the two small words for weeks leading up to the trip, but they hadn’t saved the marriage.

“Hmmm?” She looked up, curious. 

He shook his head. “We should go.”

She pulled her napkin off her lap. “Okay, sure.”

He waved a hand. “No, I meant … we should go to Italy. Someday.”

Her posture softened, fingers curling around the white cloth in her hand. “Oh. Well … I mean, that’d be … wow.” She fixed her gaze on him, and he met it. Her voice was so soft as she declared, “I’d love that.”

“Okay, it’s a deal,” he said, raising his water glass. She did the same and they toasted their future travels.

 

* * * *

 

 

**June 28, 1997**

 

They were supposed to be studying. Finn knew this, but couldn’t bring himself to care. They’d spread her old Care Bears duvet out under a tree in the park (Care Bears side down, just alternating pink and peach stripes visible to passersby.)

Rae lay on her stomach, propped herself on her elbows, and turned the pages in her history book, occasionally leaning towards Finn to jot something in her notebook. When she did, her hair would brush against his arm, and her hip would roll into his. Each time, he’d clear his throat in unconscious uncomfortable desire, and she would apologize. 

He rolled on his side to put his arm around her. “You’ll do fine,” he murmured into her hair. “Better than.” 

They were only end of term exams, not A levels. Finn had decided not to take any A levels, university wasn’t his dream. But he’d promised his dad he’d try in his exams.

“Easy for you to say, you’re done with college. I’ve got another year to go, and I wanna go to university.” She squirmed over a few degrees and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Now, spread out, I’ve got to concentrate.”

Finn gave her a squeeze, sighed, and rolled over onto his back, looking up through the leaves of the tree. Some glowed a bright lime green, others clumped up into darker muted tones. He squinted at the point where the sun sparkled through as blinding points of light, then closed his eyes and looked at the deep orange of the inside of his lids. He repressed the urge to sigh, not wanting to disturb Rae, but he was restless. He’d been applying all over town for jobs he thought he might be able to stick at, but he worried about Rae going away in a little over a year. It was madness to fret about something so far away when they’d barely been together for six months. Yet … he couldn’t help himself.

Opening one eye, he peered over at Rae, who was busy making notes on top of her class notes, scribbling details in the margins of an outline. She looked so cute, her mouth set in concentration, her brow furrowed together, accentuating that line between her eyes she got when she was really focused.

He let out the sigh he’d been holding in, and turned himself over, dragging his English textbook out of his bag. Might as well try to revise a little, even if it was only to make Rae happy he hadn’t failed. 

Taking his English notebook out, as well, he flipped it open to the last page of notes, groaning inwardly to see that he’d last taken notes at the end of May. Better check the reading list to see what he had to catch up on. Before he flipped back, though, he surreptitiously tore a corner from his notebook and wrote “I <3 you” in his tiniest scrawliest hand, folded it almost into a ball, and snuck it between the slender bit of open zipper on Rae’s backpack. 

When she glanced over, not bothering to disguise her surprise at him cracking a book, he just shrugged and riffled through the pages to find the excerpt from Hamlet he was meant to have read three weeks ago. She scrunched her nose at him, then leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. He flushed and allowed himself a tiny grin.

 

* * * * *

 

**September 10, 1997**

 

It was the Saturday before college started back again. 

He and Rae had had a wonderful summer, sexing each other quite regularly, spending the last summer as the full gang, since Archie was headed to Durham in another week. They went to Glastonbury, just the two of them, and swayed along to Radiohead, covered in mud and laughing about it. 

Now, they were having another night out at the pub, one of the last where they’re all there. A mood has descended upon the lot of them; everyone more thoughtful than usual. Chop wasn’t cracking wise; Izzy wasn’t her usual bubbly self. No one wanted to say what they were all thinking. But, all the same, Finn would rather be with Rae, just the two of them. He often thought that, but he was thinking it extra hard tonight. The past few weeks had been crammed too full of the six of them desperately clinging to their last moments together, and it was wearing on him.

He’d miss Archie, without question, but knew his friend was destined for great things. He flashed a grin at Arch over his pint, and said, for old time’s sake: “This music is doin’ me head in. Put summat decent on, will ya?” 

Archie nodded at Rae. “She’ll take care o’ that, mate. Y’haven’t needed me to pick your tunes for you for awhile now.”

Finn shrugged and slid the 20p over to Rae, who shook her head. “I’m too comfy here in the booth. You choose summat.”

He sighed in mock frustration, and stood up. “Any requests?” he asked, only to be met with a silent chorus of shaking heads.

At the jukebox, he plugged five 20ps in the slot, to get seven plays. He picked songs that they all knew, the soundtrack of their time together as a gang. F.E.E.L.I.N.G. C.A.L.L.E.D. L.O.V.E. was already playing when he got back to the table, sliding in next to Rae.  Her head lolled onto his shoulder, a sleepy smile on her lips. He put his finger to her thigh and traced out the letters L-O-V-E in time to Jarvis’ voice. 

He still wished they could have more time just the two of them, but looking round the table at his friends, he felt a rush of love for all of them. If it hadn’t been for Arch he’d never have met Chop. If it weren’t for Chop, he’d never have met Izzy. If it weren’t for Izzy, he’d have never met Chloe. And if it weren’t for Chloe … well. He traced out L-O-V-E two more times, in time to the music.

 

* * * * * *

 

**May 3, 1998**

 

He looked so radiant, even in the dim light of his half-furnished flat. 

He’d lit candles and put a couple of albums on the automatic arm of his record player. Rae had been surprised that he’d gotten a new place without telling her, but she thought back to the caravan … he liked surprising her from time to time. 

They’d been together for a year and a half. It hadn’t been easy, nothing with her ever was or ever would be, but they’d made it work. And now, Finn was stood at the end of his bed, looking down at her like she was something … no, like she was everything.

He dove under the duvet and started kissing up the inside of her legs, starting at the ankle. She sighed and squirmed and giggled, happy for the distraction from the image of his adoring face. That felt like too much to handle, but she could focus on his mouth as it traveled from the crook of her knee up her inner thigh, inching closer to the promised land. He sighed in between kisses and the warm air made her shiver. As he went to fix his lips at the fleshiest and most sensitive part of her upper thigh, his mouth made some sounds, three separate sounds that weren’t quite distinguishable as words under the covers and against her skin, but she was able to divine their meaning anyway. 

She froze and pulled the duvet up to look him in the eye. “What was that?”

Finn smiled, his lips and cheeks pink from heat and exertion, and casually, yet deliberately, said them aloud again: “I. Love. You.” The way his lips twisted around the syllables was so mesmerizing and sexy, but Rae felt paralyzed. Had he ever said it before? She’d taken his not being good with words at face value all this time, and never expected him to utter them. She never said it to him, either, not wanting to pressure him into saying it back. 

He huffed a laugh at her stunned silence. “This shouldn’t be news to you, Rae.” Darting first forward to peck her on the cheek, then under the duvet to resume his activities, Rae was left torn between the sensations happening to her lady garden and thinking about what Finn just said. He loved her, and had loved her all this time.

Rae was so used to looking for the dark clouds, she never saw the silver linings. She was too busy listening for bad news to hear the good. As his tongue swirled around her clit, she lost her grip on coherent thoughts, but still, moments flashed into her mind like snapshots. The cards for each holiday, signed with a heart; his constant scribbling on her legs and hands with his fore-finger; the looks reserved just for her that said what he was thinking without uttering a word … this was love. He’d said it again and again, sometime with his words, but mostly with how he treated her. And she’d never said it back, not wanting to trap him, or tie him to her. 

All this thinking meant her orgasm was delayed, caught on thoughts. But with a surge of love for Finn in her heart, she tuned back in to what was happening, Finn lapping faster and faster, two fingers inside her and his free and clamped round the curve of her hip and the top of her arse. The sudden, belated knowledge was like a heavy weight breaking free, and as her chest thrust forward, she felt like taking flight. She came, crowing his name, and he buried his face for a moment in the furrow where her hip met her thigh. 

She lay there panting for a moment, then reached for his shoulder and breathed, “C’mere, c’mere.”

Finn shifted himself up and along her torso, resting his head on the top of her breast, like he was listening to her heart. 

“Finn …” she started, taking a breath to fill her with courage she wished she didn’t need. “I love you, too.”

He twisted his head to look up at her, eyes full and shining. “Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah, ‘course,” she said.

He smiled as big as he could without showing his teeth and shook his head. He needed a haircut.

“S’easy for you to say that after … y’know.” He glanced down, back to where he’d just been.

“Oh! Well, I mean, that always helps, but … I mean it. I’m sorry I’ve never … Sorry I didn’t …”

Finn deftly lunged up to catch her lips with his, cutting her off mid-sentence. He was always doing this, she thought. And thank god, she thought. Because he always knew when words didn’t matter anymore.

 


End file.
